


Unmitigated Chaos

by silverwolf7007



Series: The Many Shenanigans of Harry Potter [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:30:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8130449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverwolf7007/pseuds/silverwolf7007
Summary: Hermione is not surprised that Harry is spending their sixth year befriending Slytherins, releasing dangerous beasts in the dungeons, inciting House Elf rebellions, and generally causing trouble. This is Harry, after all. Sequel to Dear Order.





	1. Chapter One

Hermione had not been wrong. It took Harry about two minutes and barely five steps away from her to begin his reign of unmitigated chaos.

"Theodore!" he shouted across the station, to where Theodore Nott was about to step onto the train. "Can I have a word?"

Theodore looked utterly confused. He turned away from the train to fully treat Harry to his perplexed frown, which gave Harry the opportunity to dart away from Hermione and across the station to catch up with him.

As Hermione watched, Theodore's expression went from perplexed to shocked to amused as Harry spoke to him. A very familiar sense of dread snaked down Hermione's spine. Nothing good could come from this.

Well, she supposed, as she started making her own way onto the train, improved inter-house relations between Gryffindor and Slytherin could come of this, which would technically be a good thing, but somehow she didn't think that was Harry's end goal.

It wasn't as though she could run down the train and demand that Harry not attempt to befriend Slytherins, though, so she just headed to the Prefects' compartment and hoped that the train would actually reach Hogsmeade without incident.

She met Draco and Pansy there, though none of the other prefects had arrived yet. Ron, for one, was still trying to fend off his mother - she could see him, and Ginny, being fussed over relentlessly.

"Granger," Pansy said with a cordial nod.

"Parkinson, Malfoy," Hermione greeted. "Have a good summer?"

Draco rolled his eyes and ignored her in favour of the window, seemingly searching for someone.

Pansy shrugged. "Wasn't too bad. You?"

Hermione gave a strained smile and tried to ignore the twitching in her eye. "It was... eventful."

Pansy looked curious, but before she had the chance to ask questions, Draco turned abruptly from the window and interrupted with a scowl. "Pansy, I've lost track of Theodore again."

"Oh, already?" Pansy sighed. "I'm sure he can't get into that much trouble on his own, Draco, we haven't even left the station yet."

"He's not on his own, though," Hermione said grimly, drawing surprised looks from the two Slytherins. "He's with Harry, or was when I last saw them."

"Oh dear sweet Merlin no," Pansy moaned. "Theodore and Potter? That's the last thing we need!"

"You have no idea," Hermione said flatly. "No idea whatsoever what Harry is capable of. Or capable of talking other people into doing."

"And it wouldn't take much talking to convince Theodore to go along with whatever chaos Potter has cooked up," Draco said, scowling. "He thrives on chaos. He's probably been waiting all his life for this moment."

"Oh, that's just what we need," Hermione sighed. "Harry finding another accomplice for whatever havoc he plans to wreak over the course of the year."

"Well, you never know," Pansy said brightly, "Theodore might have ignored Potter and decided to do something else entirely. Or even talked him down into something more sensible!"

"Pansy, your optimism, while admirable, is completely out of place in this compartment."

"Well excuse me for not going immediately to the worst case scenario, Draco."

"I think where Potter is involved, worst case scenario is only to be expected."

"You're not wrong," Hermione admitted.

* * *

Once the other prefects started to trickle into the compartment, the subject of Harry and Theodore was dropped in favour of actual prefect business. The train departed at eleven on schedule, and Hermione almost forgot about Harry and his endless penchant for chaos as the entire trip to Hogsmeade passed with no more drama than Ron and Draco accidentally agreeing with one another in opposition to Michael Corner's genuinely terrible patrolling schedule (and the subsequent bickering to return to the natural order of things).

Hermione didn't even see Harry at Hogsmeade Station, though she assumed he was still with Theodore when she saw no sign of either of them. She did see a rather crabby Luna trailing after Ginny and Neville, who were both looking rather worse for wear.

She and Ron travelled in the same carriage up to the castle as Draco and Pansy, which was filled mostly with awkward silence. Ron and Draco spent most of the trip trying to out glare one another, but didn't dare speak.

Hermione was understandably short on patience after spending most of the day keeping the prefects meeting turning into a brawl, and she was also still twitchy after, well, the events of the summer.

So when she reached the Gryffindor Table and saw Harry sitting there, attempting to communicate with Theodore with not at all subtle hand signals, well, it rather struck a nerve.

"Harry James Potter I do not know what you are doing but I swear to Godric Gryffindor that if you do not cease immediately I _will_ make you suffer."

"What?" Harry said, blinking at her, all wide eyed innocence and completely feigned sincerity. "I'm not doing anything, Hermione, what are you talking about?"

Hermione just looked at him, deeply unimpressed. "I will make you _wish_ we had let Ginny have her way with you yesterday."

Seamus snickered across the table. Hermione glowered at him. After the moment it took him to sense that someone was potentially disrespecting his baby sister, so did Ron.

Harry ignored all of them and made one last complicated signal to Theodore before sitting back in his seat, looking too satisfied for Hermione's comfort.

Hermione finally sat down, scowling at Harry and just _waiting_ for him to incriminate himself further.

Instead, he made a show of looking up at the staff table. "Hm, I wonder where Professor Dumbledore is?"

Hermione allowed his very obvious subject change and followed his gaze. Not only was the Headmaster missing, but there were no unfamiliar faces, which meant their Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was missing as well. Or...

"Do you think he's even hired anyone for Defence?" she asked with a frown. "He's probably off trying to convince some poor sap to take the position."

"I'm sure the Headmaster hired someone weeks ago," Dean assured her. "He wouldn't have left it this late."

"He _was_ awfully busy this summer," Ginny said darkly. "He may not have had time, what with all those spells he had to cast."

Harry coughed. "Or, possibly, he hired a lovely gentleman by way of owl post and has perhaps, hypothetically, just today discovered that his Defence hire was in fact the construct of a rather bored teenage mind over the summer..."

"How did you manage that?" Ron asked, not even fazed.

"Hedwig likes to play dress ups, so she went in disguise."

"No wonder she turned to owl-cohol..."

"Harry."

The others fell silent, as Harry turned to look rather guiltily at Hermione.

"Are you telling me that you let Headmaster Dumbledore hire you to teach Defence when you know full well that our very grades rest on our having an actual professor?"

Ron coughed. "I mean, to be fair, we've done all right so far without decent professors most years..."

"Ron, don't help me," Harry said.

"Oh, let him, you're gonna need all the help you can get," Ginny said with a smirk.

"I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will have found someone, Hermione," Harry said. "He's very resourceful."

Hermione swallowed a strangled scream as Professor McGonagall led the first years into the Hall. She probably shouldn't traumatise the little baby Gryffindors before they were even Sorted. It could wait until tomorrow, at least.

Professor McGonagall frowned when she realised the Headmaster was still absent, exchanging glances with the other Heads of House before seeming to come to a decision. She gave a nod to the Sorting Hat.

The Sorting Hat promptly burst into a highly inappropriate song, cut short when Professor McGonagall grabbed it by the tip and yanked it off the stool. She held it up and regarded it with a scowl, then walked down the table to place it on Professor Snape's head.

Several moments of presumably stern thoughts later, Snape removed the Hat and returned it to Professor McGonagall. She placed it back on the stool, where it drooped in a particularly contrite manner before singing very short version of the same song it had sung in Hermione's first year. The Sorting then got underway, though the first years all looked quite perplexed (and a little alarmed, in a few cases).

Just after the last little Hufflepuff was taking her seat at her new table, the doors to the Great Hall opened to admit the Headmaster.

Professor Dumbledore was beaming at the students, avoiding the disapproving gaze of Professor McGonagall (and avoiding looking at one particular section of the Gryffindor table), and he was being followed into the room by a man holding a sandwich the size of his own head.

The sandwich, Hermione assumed, was cheese.

"Oh, hey, Kingsley's going to teach!" Ron said with a grin. "We might actually learn something!"

"Like how to make the perfect cheese sandwich?" Ginny asked tartly.

"Or how to unsuccessfully track a camel through a jungle, possibly," Ron replied.

Hermione just groaned and listened with half an ear as Dumbledore introduced Professor Shacklebolt, apologised for his tardiness, and welcomed them all to dig into their dinners.

And then the food arrived and she observed a distinctly unholy gleam in Harry's eyes. An unholy gleam in his eyes, and a slowly but surely growing pile of mashed potatoes and peas on his plate.

She looked across to the Slytherin table. Sure enough, the plate in front of Theodore was also mostly mashed potato, though specks of orange indicated carrot or pumpkin mixed through it.

"You know, I've always wondered how the House Elves know when to send dinner up," Seamus mused as he reached for a second helping of roast beef. "I don't think we've gotten it at the same time even once since first year!"

"Maybe the Headmaster has a bell he rings to let them know?" Lavender suggested.

"Or they can just sense it," Parvati said. "As part of their magic, you know?"

"Maybe it's a mind link," Ginny said with an arched eyebrow directed at Harry. "Is that where you learned it?"

"I have never learned any magic from house elves," Harry refuted. "Although, now that you mention it..."

"No," Hermione said flatly. "Absolutely not. I don't want to even imagine what you could learn from Dobby."

Harry just shrugged and grinned at her, turning back to his dinner. Hermione just kept watching him suspiciously as she ate.

It paid off. Harry had adapted to more subtle hand signals, but he was communicating with Theodore again.

And Theodore, looking gleeful, was speaking animatedly to his friends, waving his arms around - and the spoon loaded with mashed potato.

As Hermione watched, the glob of potato left the spoon and flew, with what had to be deliberate aim, to hit Blaise Zabini in the side of the head.

Before she could even register that she had moved, Hermione was standing on the other side of the hall with a death grip on Blaise's wrist.

Blaise, frozen in the act of pouring his pumpkin juice over Theodore's head, stared at her. "What the hell, Granger?"

"Don't you dare," she hissed, forcing his hand upright before more than a couple of drops touched Theodore's hair. "Don't let them drag you down to their level."

He still looked utterly bewildered (and not a little angry, as the mashed potato slid down onto his shoulder).

Draco sighed. "Loathe as I am to agree with Granger," he said, sneering only minimally. "I'd really rather you didn't enable Theodore and Potter to drag the entire student body into a food fight."

Blaise grimaced, realising that was exactly what he had been about to do. "Fair enough," he said, lowering his hand. Hermione let him go, satisfied that he wasn't going to get involved. "I'd really prefer not to wind up covered in food anyway. Well, any more than I already am."

"You guys are no fun," Theodore said, pouting.

Hermione shared a look with Draco that spoke volumes and ended in a grim nod of acknowledgement - they would have to pool their resources to keep Harry and Theodore from bringing the castle down around their ears.

Food fight averted, at least for the time being, Hermione returned to the Gryffindor table.

"A food fight, Harry?" she said as she retook her seat. "Really?"

"Why, Hermione, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Harry, your wide-eyed innocent look wouldn't fool Gilderoy Lockhart."

The expression dissolved into a vaguely sheepish grin. "All right, you caught me. I'm sorry. I definitely won't do anything like this ever again."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "You know, if you weren't levitating your plate of potato over Ginny's head, I would have almost believed you."

Ginny whipped out her wand and took control of the plate from Harry. Harry's eyes gleamed. Ginny took a moment to take a deep breath, visibly restraining herself from banishing the plate directly into Harry's face, and instead set it down at the far end of the table.

Harry shook his head. "I'm disappointed in you, Ginny."

She rolled her eyes. "And I'm still holding a grudge over the sand, you'll have to forgive me for not playing along."

"Fair enough," he sighed.

"Can we just eat in peace, now?" Ron pleaded. "Just give me this one night."

"You haven't actually stopped eating this entire time, Ron," Neville pointed out.

"Well, no," Ron admitted. "But my appetite has definitely been affected. I don't even know if I can stomach dessert."

As if he had summoned it himself, the dessert dishes began appearing.

"I definitely can," Harry said, taking a full half of a chocolate tart. "I didn't eat much for mains."

Hermione groaned. "Gee, I wonder why."

She watched them carefully for the rest of the feast, but Harry and Theodore had clearly given up their first attempt as a failure (though Hermione had no doubts this would not be the last food fight she would have to thwart).

Dumbledore stood at the end of the Feast to give the usual start of term notices. There were the usual warnings about the Forbidden Forest, spells in corridors, and banned product lists in Filch's office (which had a note at the top of the list stating 'any and all products ever invented by any Weasley at any time' to be extra forbidden, which, if nothing else, cut down the number of named individual items immensely).

The trip up to Gryffindor Tower was thankfully uneventful, up until Ron gave the Fat Lady the first password of the year ('rainforest', which made Hermione and Ginny twitch with irritation), and the Gryffindors poured into the Common Room and several promptly began screaming.

Hermione pushed her way to the front, wand ready. Then she heard one of the second years yell "that's a bloody tiger!" and turned to face the rest of her House.

"All right, quiet!" she shouted, shooting sparks with a loud 'bang' to get their attention. "There's no need for panic, everyone is safe."

"But that's a tiger!" the same second year said, sounding almost hysterical. His friend elbowed him sharply, which seemed to calm him a little.

"Yes, I know," Hermione said with a sigh. "But he is perfectly harmless."

"Unless you happen to be a shark," Harry muttered in an undertone.

Hermione kicked him and continued. "This is Crookshanks, who up until this summer was a perfectly normal house-cat." Crookshanks yowled. "All right, a perfectly normal half-kneazle, anyway. However, he will be a tiger for the foreseeable future."

"But _why_?" Lavender asked.

Hermione explained the only way she knew how. "Harry did it."

Harry's protest that he hadn't actually cast any spells on Crookshanks was drowned out by the chorus of understanding 'ohhhh's (and a few older students promising the confused first years that they'd understand soon enough).

And with that sorted out, Hermione shooed the firsties up to the dorms, warned the rest of the Gryffindors not to stay up to late, left the seventh year prefects in charge, and went to bed.


	2. Chapter Two

The next morning Hermione woke up and didn't open her eyes. She relished the knowledge that when she opened them, she would see the canopy of her bed, and that when she did set foot on the floor, it would be on the fluffy rugs that lined the floor of her dorm, not on sand or into ankle deep water.

A small part of the reason she kept her eyes closed, however, was because she didn't want her illusion of normality shattered when she would be reminded that the large warm weight at the end of her bed was still several times larger than he should be.

Eventually Hermione did have to open her eyes and sit up. Crookshanks lazily opened his eyes and raised his head, giving her a sleepy look. She petted his head until he closed his eyes again before setting about getting ready for the day.

Due to her reluctance to arise, Hermione wasn't ready much before her room-mates and chose to wait for them to finish before heading down to the Common Room. They met Ginny on the stairs and were a little surprised to find all five of the sixth year boys already in the Common Room.

"You lot are up early," Ginny commented warily, looking between her usually slothful brother and the probable cause of his early awakening.

Harry smiled a little sheepishly. "We are. In completely unrelated news, I have now been banned from brewing potions in the dorm room."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry will also be sleeping on a couch in the Common Room until he manages to fix his bed."

"Or bribes a House Elf to do it for him," Seamus said.

Dean elbowed him. "Don't give him ideas."

"If he hadn't already had it, I'll eat my hat."

"I hadn't," Harry piped up. He was smiling brightly in a manner that suggested he was lying, but Hermione wasn't going to call him out if it meant she would get to see Seamus actually eat his hat.

"I don't believe you," Seamus said flatly.

"You just don't want to follow through," Neville scoffed. "Now are we going to breakfast or what?"

Lavender blinked. "Who died and made you Ronald Weasley?"

"Hey!"

"Sorry, Ron."

"You don't sound sorry," he muttered. Lavender patted his arm apologetically.

"It's not that I'm starving," Neville said, starting to blush a little. "But I need to go and feed the fish before class."

"What fish?" Dean asked.

"Luna and I got some fish over the summer." Harry snickered. Neville kicked him. "Shut up, you. Professor Dumbledore set them up in Hogwarts' brand new aquarium room, handily just off the Great Hall - but it takes a bit of time to feed seventy seven fish."

"Just think," Ginny said, smiling. "If it weren't for Hedwig and Crookshanks, there would have been seventy nine."

"Actually, because Sushi ate Squishy the First, back before he was eaten by Crookshanks, the original fish count was eighty," Neville pointed out.

"I'm not sure three additional fish would really change how long it takes to feed them," Seamus pointed out.

"And speaking of feeding..." Ron said, looking longingly toward the portrait hole. "Not to be predictable or anything but I am kind of hungry."

"And by 'kind of hungry' we are all aware you mean starving like a ravenous beast," Harry replied.

Ron half-heartedly swiped at him with a nearby cushion. Harry darted toward the exit and out of range.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione followed them out of the Common Room, their year-mates trailing along behind them.

Once sitting at the Gryffindor table, Ron naturally fell upon his breakfast like a starving man, while the rest of them managed to begin their breakfast with much more dignity.

Hermione didn't miss that Harry and Theodore were giving one another meaningful looks across the Great Hall, though giving them each a particularly meaningful glare of her own seemed to belay any food going anywhere it shouldn't.

She could see the Headmaster sipping his tea happily, McGonagall eating her toast and shooting him annoyed looks. Snape was sneering around the room with equal disdain for everyone (though his expression naturally intensified at the Gryffindor table in general and Harry in particular, and softened - as much as Snape was capable of looking soft - when looking at his Slytherins).

Hermione could not, for a moment, see Kingsley, which was odd because she knew he was always an early riser. After scanning the head table, she noticed a rather tall pile of - oh. Cheese sandwiches. Sure enough, she saw a familiar hand rise above and take one from the top of the pile.

The post arrived not long after that, the usual small amount for the first day back - mostly reminders to write, items students had left behind, and replies to the late night excited first year announcements of house assignments.

Hedwig, though lacking any mail, flew in with the other post owls and swooped down to land in the middle of the Gryffindor table.

"Good morning, Hedwig," Harry greeted, holding out a rasher of bacon. Hedwig accepted it daintily before ripping it to shreds and swallowing it down within seconds. Harry merely provided her with another.

"Is your owl once again hoarding bacon, Mr Potter?"

Harry leaned back in his seat to give an upside down grin to the Deputy Headmistress. "She does rather like it, Professor McGonagall."

"Quite," she said with a tight lipped smile. She handed him his schedule and continued down the table.

Hermione looked down at the parchment in her hand. "Oooh, double Transfiguration first thing!"

"You are literally the only person who would be that excited by double Transfiguration first thing on a Monday morning," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, I don't know," Harry said. "I'm looking forward to getting there."

Something about Harry's smile set Hermione on edge, but she ignored him until they were halfway to the Transfiguration classroom, and he broke what was a rather peaceful silence.

"I really do hope we get to Transfiguration soon."

Hermione glanced back at him, frowning. They kept walking.

They were soon joined by the Slytherins, who they were sharing the class with (and the vast majority of their other classes, for that matter. Dumbledore either hated all of his staff, or hated all of his students. More likely, he thought it would be fun and promote inter house unity).

"Hermione?"

She grit her teeth. "Yes, Harry?"

"Are we there yet?"

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. Ron froze at her side. A few steps ahead, Neville also paused, slowly turning. All three of them stared.

Harry blinked innocently. "Well, are we?"

"I'm going to hurt you, one of these days, Harry," Ron sighed. "In your sleep. Neville will hold you down."

Neville just shrugged and nodded.

Hermione finally unfroze herself, stepped forward, wrapped her hands around Harry's neck and squeezed.

Harry squeaked breathlessly, arms flailing.

Daphne Greengrass helped Lavender pull Hermione away while Pansy pried her fingers off Harry's neck. Theodore pulled Harry out of range, petting his hair and frowning at Hermione.

Hermione coughed a little, when Daphne and Lavender let her go, and straightened her robes. "I've wanted to do that since the beginning of summer."

Harry was rubbing his throat and not looking at all apologetic. He was, in fact, grinning. "Do you feel better now?"

"A little. Next time you ought to have the decency to pass out."

"Maybe next time you should try harder."

"Maybe next time I will."

"Oh, shut up, you two," Ron said wearily.

"I'm sensing a serious paradigm shift here," Draco said, raising his eyebrows sardonically. "Isn't Granger usually the peacemaker in the Gryffindor Golden Trio?"

"She used to be," Neville said, perhaps a little more theatrically maudlin than he needed to be. "Once. Now she and Harry are in some kind of feud and poor Ron is stuck in the middle. Their friendship will never be the same."

"We are not in some kind of feud," Hermione huffed. "Honestly, Neville. Where do you come up with these ideas?"

Neville smiled cheerfully. "Luna."

"Is that why it took you fifteen minutes to feed the fish?" Dean asked. "Because you and Luna were coming up with weird theories?"

"Nah, that was because we couldn't find Bacon."

"I don't think you're supposed to feed fish bacon," Theodore said. He was still holding onto Harry possessively. Harry seemed to be accepting of this.

"That's the name of one of the fish," Neville explained. "And trust me, that's one of the tamer ones."

Parvati frowned, and started walking down the hallway once more. The others all took that as their cue to follow. "So one of your fish is missing?"

"Yep."

"You sound less sad than I would expect for having potentially lost a pet."

"You should have heard him after Hermione's cat ate the fish called Sushi," Ron said with a snort. "I never knew our Neville could be so harsh."

"Like I said, Sushi bit me. And I'm not particularly attached to Bacon. Besides, we knew it was best not to get too close when they were all in danger of being eaten by Hedwig."

Harry snickered. "She does enjoy bacon."

"I'm a little concerned you just admitted she ate the fish, but as long as you don't tell Luna..." Neville shrugged. "I'm not exactly going to cry."

"You might want to get covers for your fish tanks," Daphne suggested wryly.

"That's probably a good idea," Neville agreed.

Parvati stepped through the open door of the Transfiguration classroom and took a seat, the rest of them following suit.

When the final student was seated and looking toward McGonagall, who was standing before them looking rather displeased, she spoke. "Would any of you like to explain why each and every one of you is ten minutes late to your first class of the year?"

They all stared at her in shock, a few of them daring to let their eyes dart to the clock on the wall that confirmed their teacher's words.

"Granger tried to kill Harry, Professor McGonagall," Theodore answered finally, still looking rather put out over the whole matter. "With her bare hands."

McGonagall looked torn between shock, amusement, and understanding. "Well. Thank you, Mr Nott. In that case, ten points from both Gryffindor and Slytherin for tardiness. Ten further points from Mr Potter for presumably being intentionally irritating-"

"Ouch, Professor. That hurts."

"-And ten points to Miss Granger for restraining herself from using magic."

Hermione smiled a little, though she was also somewhat surprised. Then again, McGonagall had been as much at the mercy of Harry (and the Headmaster and Luna) as the rest of them over the summer, so she could understand.

The rest of the class was uneventful, though it looked as though the year was going to be full of fun and difficult challenges (as Hermione saw it, at least), and McGonagall dismissed them with a strict warning not to be late again, or to any of their other classes.

They left the classroom, walked through the halls and arrived at lunch as a mixed group, which garnered them a few odd looks (though fewer than would probably have been sent their way prior to the little scene between members of their year the night before).

Theodore tried to take Harry to the Slytherin table with him, and Harry seemed more than willing to be taken, but Hermione wasn't willing to let them set a dangerous precedent (or share a table, where they could simply start throwing food at one another and 'miss'). A quick glance at Draco told her she wasn't the only one that felt this way, and so she took hold of Harry's wrist and dragged him to Gryffindor, while Draco grabbed Theodore and headed to Slytherin.

Eventually Theodore and Harry had to let one another go or else someone's arm was going to dislocate, and mere moments later they were both seated at their house tables, sulking.

Harry forgot he was sulking not long after, when Luna sat down beside him at the Gryffindor table (Hermione pretended she couldn't hear Theodore complaining from the Slytherin table about double standards, and really just hoped one of the other Slytherins managed to explain that Luna was the exception to just about every rule).

"Hello Harry, I have found a very interesting book in the library that you will need to read very soon." She paused in the act of reaching for a chicken wrap. "Hermione, Ronald, Neville, other assorted Gryffindors, hello. I do not have books for you."

"Should I be happy that I'm not an 'other assorted Gryffindor' or offended that there isn't a book?" Ron wondered.

"Be happy," Ginny said, eyeing her best friend from where she sat directly across the table. "I'm apparently an other."

Luna blinked. "Oh, Ginny, don't be silly. I merely didn't see you there."

"You've been staring at me for like two minutes."

"I thought you were a chicken salad wrap."

"I'm not."

"Are you certain? You do have a rather delectable air about you."

"Please don't eat me."

"But you look so tasty."

"I wouldn't like it very much."

"You never know, you might."

"I doubt it."

"Please stop talking," Hermione sighed, head in her hands. "I honestly can't tell if you're arguing, flirting, or if you always talk to one another like this."

"A little of all three," Luna told her, biting into her wrap.

Ginny just shrugged and nodded, finding herself a sandwich. "Pretty much."

"Can I have my book now?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Luna said, digging distractedly through her bag one handed. Eventually she finished her wrap and began searching using both hands, winding up shoulder deep in her bag at one point.

"And that's the downside to enchanting your bag to carry all the books you want," Hermione said wryly.

Luna finally seemed to find the book she wanted and pulled herself out of her bag, handing it to Harry. "Here. And remember to keep Hubert handy before you start."

"I will, I will," Harry said, pocketing the book (did he have enchanted pockets? Hermione wouldn't put it past him) and reaching for another sandwich of his own. "Ooh, cheese."

"Gross," Colin Creevey said from a few seats away. "Ham all the way, cheese sandwiches su-mph!"

"Shhh!" Ginny hissed, hand firmly over Colin's mouth. She looked up at the staff table and around the Great Hall nervously. "Don't say it!"

"Mrph?"

"Don't say bad things about cheese sandwiches," Ron said. "Not if you want to pass Defence this year, anyway."

Colin still looked utterly bewildered, as did several other students within hearing range.

Ron sighed and pointed toward the staff table. "See that giant pile of sandwiches in front of Professor Shacklebolt? He wouldn't take it well if he heard you."

"That's crazy," Colin said, finally prying Ginny's hand from his mouth.

"Are you really willing to risk it during your OWL year?" Hermione asked grimly.

"Er. I suppose not?"

"Good choice," Ginny purred, patting his head.

Eventually the Gryffindor sixth years had to head to their next class - Double Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Mondays are gonna suck this year," Seamus commented along the way. "Double Transfiguration and double Defence?"

"It's pretty harsh," Dean agreed.

"I think Fridays will be my favourite," Neville said, grinning. "Now I've dropped Potions, I'll have a free morning and then double Herbology in the afternoon."

Parvati laughed. "Isn't that basically a three day weekend for you every week, Neville?"

"Something like that," he replied cheerfully.

They filed into the Defence classroom, joining the Slytherins who had somehow beaten them there (likely due to Hermione having to try and shoo Crookshanks back to Gryffindor Tower because he was scaring the younger years).

Kingsley Shacklebolt stood at the front of the classroom, hands clasped behind his back, surveying them all measuringly.

Hermione wondered if perhaps they were meant to overlook the cheese sandwich platter on his desk.

"Welcome to Defence Against the Dark Arts," Kingsley said in his deep, slow voice. "Do you have a question, Mr Potter?"

Cursing internally, Hermione turned to see Harry lowering his raised hand with a smile that professed innocence and promised mischief. "May I have a cheese sandwich, Professor Shacklebolt?"

Kingsley frowned. "If you behave for the rest of class, you may have one at the end."

"I suppose that's acceptable."

Harry, miraculously, behaved - at least to Kingsley's standards - and left class munching happily on his sandwich. "You know what's funny?" he asked between mouthfuls.

"I daresay even if I didn't wish to know, you would inform us anyway," Draco muttered.

"I don't even like cheese sandwiches that much. I think it's just because it's one of Kingsley's that it's so enjoyable."


	3. Chapter Three

The rest of their classes that week were relatively normal, with only one notable moment at the beginning of Potions. Hermione had been sure for a moment that Professor Snape had been going to follow her example and throttle Harry after seeing the gaudy red and gold potions equipment that Fred and George had given to Harry for his birthday.

But somehow, Snape managed to control his murderous urges, and Harry lived through the week.

In fact, the week after that was also unremarkable. Hermione honestly hadn't thought that it was possible (and frankly, the stress of expecting the worst, the impending sense that something was going to happen, was tiring her out).

The only real moments of note had been at breakfast, two mornings in a row, when the Headmaster had received anonymous Howlers telling him he 'knew what he did' and promising retribution. Those would continue until Hermione either tired of sending them, or thought of something to pay him back for all his spellwork over the summer.

But despite her paranoia in regards to Harry, nothing had happened. Harry and Theodore had only tried a few times, half-heartedly, to start their food fight. Hermione had foiled most of those attempts with nothing more than a well timed glare before they had even gotten started.

Their most recent attempt had been foiled by Professor Snape conveniently walking past the Slytherin table as Theodore had been rolling slices of bread into balls. Not only had Snape smacked Theodore across the back of the head, he had also banished all the nearby food and forced him to eat his own bread balls for lunch. Harry seemed discouraged by this. Hermione was wondering how much a nice, new cauldron would set her back.

And then there was the perpetual state of truce they had fallen into with the Slytherins. Part of Hermione was still expecting a confrontation every time they crossed paths, especially between Malfoy and, well, Ron in particular. She suspected that only her elbows to Ron's ribs and Pansy's heel digging into Draco's toes was keeping them civil at times.

But there had been several occasions when sixth year Slytherins had actually sat at the Gryffindor table for dinner, and vice versa. Hermione had spent one particularly memorable evening with the Slytherins discussing Arithmancy and Ancient Runes with Blaise, Daphne, and Tracey Davis, while Harry had been chatting with Pansy, and Theodore had somehow ended up at the Gryffindor table having an increasingly ridiculous eating contest with Ron.

Even Draco had been drawn into Quidditch debates with Seamus and Ginny.

It was strange, but in a good way. Hermione hoped that it would continue.

And then mid September, right after the Headmaster had announced that there would be a Hogsmeade weekend at the end of the week, Harry stood and jumped up onto the Gryffindor table.

Hermione's immediate instinct was to pull him down before he stepped in someone's breakfast (or threw it across the Hall). He deftly sidestepped her attempts to grab his robe, but he wasn't armed with any food, so she didn't leap after him.

Harry cupped his hands around his mouth. "Oi, Parkinson!"

At the Slytherin table, Pansy looked up, eyebrow raised. "What, Potter?"

"Want to go to Hogsmeade with me?"

"Yeah, all right," she called back. Next to her, Draco choked on his pumpkin juice.

Harry grinned and dropped back down into his seat. "I decided to take a leaf out of Fred's book," he said.

"Harry," Ron said weakly. "Harry, why are you dating Parkinson?"

"Um, because I like her?" Harry replied, amused. "Why else? I thought we were, you know, kind of friendly with the Slytherins now?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't think we're ever getting to the point where Malfoy isn't going to murder you for even thinking about going out with her."

"Hmm."

Hermione followed Harry's gaze to where Pansy and Draco were arguing fiercely (much to the apparent amusement of Blaise and Theodore). Pansy seemed to be winning, judging by Draco's scowl.

 

* * *

 

"You can't go out with Potter!"

Pansy blinked and turned away from the Gryffindor table. "And why, pray tell, can I not?"

"Be-because he's Potter!" Draco sputtered. "He's the enemy!"

"He's Theodore's friend, and we're no longer enemies with the Gryffindors, Draco," she said patiently.

"He's shifty!"

"Well, yes," Pansy allowed. "But you can hardly talk."

"Pansy, be reasonable! You can't date Potter! I forbid it!"

The Slytherins in the immediate surrounding area fell silent. Theodore stopped eating and stared, wide eyed. Blaise reached out for the bowl of popcorn that had just appeared on the table.

"You 'forbid it'?" Pansy repeated, eyes narrowing. "And by whose authority do you forbid it, Draco?" she hissed. "You are not my keeper! I am seventeen years old, Draco Malfoy, and I will date whoever I wish! If I want to date Potter, I will! If I want to date a Hufflepuff, I will! If I want to date Neville Longbottom, you have no say!"

Draco was leaning away from her, scowling but clearly defeated. "All right, I get it. Fine. Date the enemy, see if I care."

Pansy rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. "For Merlin's sake, Draco, act your age."

He grumbled to himself, but otherwise stayed silent. Pansy counted it as a win.

 

* * *

 

There was a lot of gossiping amongst the students of Hogwarts over the next few days. Most people weren't yet used to the Slytherins and Gryffindors being in truce, and the thought of members of the two houses going on a date was a Hogwarts scandal.

Nothing much actually changed for the sixth years, aside from Harry abandoning Theodore to sit with Pansy in Charms (he tried to do the same in Potions, but Pansy knew better than to get too close to Harry's cauldron, given his new habit of experimenting mid class).

In fact, Harry and Pansy's potential new relationship had one other impressive consequence - Ron and Draco were being civil. They were cooperating. They were spending time with one another, completely unprompted.

Hermione was genuinely torn by this. It was, of course, a miracle that could end a centuries long blood feud between their families.

On the other hand, they were being irrational, paranoid, and downright ridiculous.

They had been able to convince Theodore with alarming ease that Harry and Pansy dating could only lead to disaster and anguish (mostly because Theodore was still sore over losing his Charms partner), though for the most part, the other sixth years felt fairly neutral on the matter.

Hermione found that she and Blaise were of the same mind. He, like Hermione, thought that they made a cute couple, if perhaps a terrifyingly manipulative one.

And much as Hermione still held a grudge over the summer holidays, she thought Harry deserved to go on a date and have a nice time and not be stalked by his best friend and former nemesis.

Still, she wasn't sure that stalking Ron and Draco in turn was the solution, but it was that or locking them in the dungeons somewhere. She didn't necessarily have a problem with that, but Blaise had heard rumours about some kind of terrifying creature wandering around down there. Even Ron and Draco didn't deserve to be eaten by a mysterious beast.

So there they were.

Harry and Pansy, sitting in the Three Broomsticks with butterbeer and chips, chatting, laughing, occasionally holding hands and clearly having a wonderful time.

Ron and Draco, hovering outside the window of the pub, scowling and muttering darkly, more to themselves than to each other, about evil Slytherins and pathetic Gryffindors and the terribleness of the match between their respective best friends. Theodore was with them, sulking, but also looking more and more amused at Ron and Draco's running commentary.

And then there was Hermione, sitting across the street eating ice cream with Blaise, Ginny, and Luna. Blaise and Ginny were more amused than anything, while Hermione felt rather exasperated by the whole situation. Luna was alternately sulking in a similar manner to Theodore, and then forgetting she was supposedly upset and stealing Ginny's ice cream and petting her hair.

"Someone remind me why I'm here," Ginny said, leaning over to steal some of Luna's ice cream in retaliation. "Not that this isn't amusing, but what exactly is the point?"

"We're here to stop Draco and Weasley from interfering with Pansy's date with Potter," Blaise said, with the air of someone who had explained this very thing several times. "As I have told you. Twelve times."

"It was only three, I'm afraid," Luna told him. She seemed to have abandoned sulking altogether at this point, instead stealing Ginny's entire ice cream dish.

Ginny frowned and just stole Luna's. "Well I hate to point it out, for the second time, for anyone who is counting. But they're really just being creepy and sad, not disruptive."

"So far," Hermione said darkly. "I'm not willing to leave, just in case that changes."

It did not. The four of them spend the rest of the day trailing after Draco, Ron, and Theodore, who in turn stalked Pansy and Harry in a very unsubtle manner.

On the walk back up to the castle, Draco commented that Pansy was far too good for Harry, which was something he had said multiple times throughout the day. But this time, he said it just a little too loudly.

Pansy turned sharply to glare at him, wand out. Draco stopped abruptly, as did everyone else. Harry turned more slowly, a grin creeping across his face at the promise of chaos.

"I have had enough of your incessant stalking, Draco!" Pansy snapped. "You are being ridiculous! I appreciate that you are concerned, but there is nothing to be concerned about! And if you, AND YOU, Weasley, do not stop this ridiculous behaviour at once I will make you SUFFER FOR IT!"

She flicked her wand and muttered a quick spell, leaving the two of them bound and gagged in sparkly pink rope in the dirt.

A warning glance at Theodore had him hastily backing up to stand next to Blaise, contrite.

Luna and Ginny applauded. Hermione had to admit she was very impressed.

Harry was looking a little starry eyed, beaming at Pansy. She just sniffed at the two boys on the ground and turned on her heel, taking Harry's arm and leading him back to Hogwarts.

"Well, I'm terrified," Blaise said cheerfully, grabbing Theodore and following after them. "I hope you've learned your lesson."

"Definitely," Theodore said fervently. "How did I forget how scary Pansy is?"

"You've never annoyed her as often as Draco," Blaise said with a shrug. "I don't know how he keeps forgetting."

Ginny nudged Ron with her toe on her way past. Luna leaned down and patted them both on the head, rather condescendingly. Ron rolled his eyes, while Draco made a strangled protest as his hair was mussed.

This left Hermione alone with the two of them. With a sigh, she waved her wand to release them, and raised her eyebrows as they climbed to their feet. "And what have we learned today, boys?"

"That Parkinson is terrifying, which probably makes her perfect for Harry, and that we've been giant prats?"

"Very good, Ron. Malfoy?"

"Oh, for- all right, I might've been overstepping a tad."

"A tad?"

"Shut up, Granger."

"Don't talk to Hermione like that!"

"What are you gonna do about it, Weasley?"

Hermione sighed again and left them to it.


	4. Chapter Four

A week or so later, Hermione heard another whisper of a beast in the dungeons.

Immediately suspicious, and cursing herself for not investigating when Blaise had first mentioned it, she had grabbed the two second years who had been discussing it and demanded details.

"Well we don't know much," one of the boys had said. "But some of the Ravenclaws said some of the Slytherins had been chased by some kind of creature down there, and then one of the Hufflepuff firsties had her bag stolen by something large and smelly that snuck up behind her."

"Says she didn't get a good look, but she said she hadn't ever seen anything with such a look of malice in it's eyes."

"And when firsties are using the word 'malice', you know things must be scary."

That gave her a few ideas, and she decided to investigate further.

Of course the easiest way to do that was going to be to ask a Slytherin, and luckily, these days she had a couple of options on that front.

Unfortunately the first of these she had the chance to talk to was Draco, who she came across in the library the next afternoon.

She almost backed down, thinking to herself that it would be less hassle to just leave and find Pansy at some point. But really, she couldn't back down. If for no other reason than she really shouldn't let any first years get eaten or traumatised.

He had books and parchment spread all across his table, quill in his hand, and was jotting notes down from one particular book that Hermione was fairly sure she had thrown at Ron the week before. He kept writing for several moments after Hermione had sat down across from him, then once he was finished he placed down his quill and looked at her.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Something I can do for you, Granger?"

Hermione smiled grimly. "I need to know about the supposed beast that's terrorising students in the dungeons."

"'Supposed beast'?" he repeated. "Oh, it's real, Granger. I've heard it myself, grunting and groaning and galloping around. Haven't laid eyes on it yet." His eyes narrowed. " _Yet_. I _will_ find it. No one, man or beast, terrorises my baby Slytherins and lives to tell the tale."

Hermione chose not to comment on 'my baby Slytherins'. She doubted it would encourage Draco to work with her. "Good, that's what I like to hear. I would like to offer my assistance."

"I'm sure we can handle it ourselves," he sneered.

"I don't doubt it," she said, rolling her eyes. "But I have several very good reasons to suspect that, firstly, Harry is probably to blame for this, and second, that we might need to take my cat."

Draco snorted. "Your cat? What use would a cat be? Even if he's half kneazle or something-"

"He is, but that's not why we need him," she sighed. "Trust me, if the beast running about in the dungeons is what I think it is, we'll want Crookshanks with us. And possibly Professors Snape and Shacklebolt."

"Snape and Shacklebolt?"

"Professor Snape is the most familiar with the dungeons, and Professor Shacklebolt is the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, and more importantly, a trained Auror." Both perfectly valid reasons that were far easier (and safer) to explain than 'they both hold an irrational grudge after spending the summer in the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix'.

Sighing, Draco began gathering his things. "I suppose you want to go and find them now?"

"That would probably be for the best," Hermione said. She helped sort his papers from the books, then stood from her seat. "I'll go and fetch Crookshanks from my dorm, and find Professor Shacklebolt. You find Professor Snape and we'll meet in front of the Slytherin Common Room."

"How do you know where the Slytherin Common Room is?" he demanded.

"Please," she said with a laugh. "I'm not telling you all of my secrets."

"Ugh, fine. Don't take too long, Granger."

"See you soon, Malfoy," she called on her way out the door.

A quick trip to Gryffindor tower later and then she was outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, where a quick peek at the Marauder's Map had told her Kingsley currently was. Crookshanks was happily following close to her side. She thought he was probably just glad to be allowed out of Gryffindor Tower.

She knocked on the open door as she stepped inside. "Hello? Professor Shacklebolt?"

Kingsley looked up from his paperwork with a smile. "Hermione, come in. What can I do for you?" He leaned back in his chair. "And please tell me it's going to take a long time, I could really use a break from grading second year essays on doxies."

"Professor, I need your help investigating the dungeons. I've heard reports of a creature down there scaring the students."

Hermione wasn't particularly surprised at how fast Kingsley's eyes lit up and he was out of his chair. "A creature, you say? Anything more specific? Are we talking Nifflers or Nundus?"

Hermione didn't answer, she merely gestured to Crookshanks. The tiger was looking at Kingsley with an unholy gleam in his eyes.

There was silence for almost a full minute.

"Shall I assume we will be picking up Professor Snape along the way?" Kingsley said finally, grabbing his robe from the back of his chair.

"Yes, yes we will," Hermione confirmed as Kingsley threw his robe over his shoulders and joined her by the door.

"In that case," Kingsley said, deadly serious. "I'm going to need a cheese sandwich."

Hermione may have rolled her eyes, but nevertheless led the way toward the dungeons.

Fifteen minutes later, after a detour to the kitchen that resulted in Kingsley carrying a bag full of cheese sandwiches (that Hermione was planning to commandeer as bait if it came down to it, and she would not even apologise), they approached the entrance to the Slytherin Common room, where Draco was leaning against the wall looking bored and Snape was standing, arms crossed and scowling fiercely.

"Geez, Granger, what took so long?" Draco demanded. Then his eyes widened as he looked past her. "Dear Merlin is that a TIGER?"

"That is Crookshanks, yes."

"Croo- is that your your- WHAT?"

"Crookshanks is my cat, who is currently a tiger," Hermione explained patiently. The past few weeks had given her plenty of practice.

"Well, I suppose that explains why you think he'll be helpful in monster hunting," he sighed.

"Would one of you kindly explain what we are doing here?" Snape demanded.

"We're going to hunt down the creature that's scaring all the firsties in the dungeons, Professor," Draco said. "Granger offered her help and suggested we ask you and Professor Shacklebolt to join us."

"She did, did she?" Snape murmured, sending Hermione a suspicious glare. "And why, Miss Granger, did you feel you needed the assistance of two professors _and_ your beast?"

Hermione looked him dead in the eye and spoke. "Because we're hunting House Camel, Professor."

Snape's eyes took on the same unholy light as Kingsley's, and he gave a thin smile that would have sent very near the entire student population of Hogwarts (and probably some members of staff) running in fear for their lives. "Well then, let us begin."

Crookshanks took the lead, both Snape and Kingsley walking close behind. Hermione and Draco followed, watching in amusement as Kingsley offered Snape a cheese sandwich (and were both shocked when he accepted it).

"Granger, when you say House Camel..."

"I mean a House Elf that has, under circumstances I would rather not get into at this moment, been Transfigured for an indeterminate amount of time into a camel."

"And I assume it is not a coincidence that your cat has been Transfigured into a tiger as well?"

"It is not."

"I doubt it would be too much of a leap to assume that Potter is to blame?"

"For the most part, yes."

"Potter and?"

"Luna." Hermione hesitated. "And someone else."

Draco frowned thoughtfully. "Would I be completely off base to think that the anonymous howlers the Headmaster has been receiving are due to his involvement in said Transfiguration?"

She eyed him. "You're sharp, Malfoy, I'll give you that."

They fell silent as Crookshanks suddenly paused ahead of them.

Snape looked down at the tiger. "Well, beast?" he asked, voice low.

Crookshanks let out an odd little chirping meow that Hermione usually heard when he was trying to catch flies or moths in her bedroom (and that she hadn't heard at all since he had become a tiger, although that may have been because she had avoided the camel hunts and hadn't been paying attention during the Sushi Incident). He then took off down a side hallway with Snape and Kingsley right on his heels.

Draco took a few fast steps, but Hermione had merely continued walking at a normal pace, and he dropped back to join her again. "We're not going to keep up?"

She shrugged. "In all honesty, Malfoy, I'm more than a little tempted to just leave them to it and go write my Charms essay."

He looked thoughtful. "You know, I _could_ use a few pointers on that one."

They shared a look and very nearly turned away from the hunt.

Then Crookshanks actually roared, Kingsley and Snape were casting hexes, and there was an odd, groaning bleating sound that had to be their quarry. Hermione and Draco instinctively ran towards the chaos.

Much later, Hermione would blame Harry for her reaction. Five years and instead of the sane, sensible response her parents and professors (and own sense of self preservation) would approve of, she ran toward danger without pause.

She would have to ask later what Draco's excuse was.

But now, she was throwing up a shield in case of spells and heading into the middle of a fight between a cat-turned-tiger, a house-elf-turned-camel, an auror, and a Death Eater, with a Slytherin at her side.

There were several minutes of mindless chaos, spells of varying colours flying around, lots of growling and swearing. Hermione and Draco tried to get around to the other side to cut off any escape, but it was too late.

With a triumphant bleat and one last pointed spit at Snape, Elmer galloped down the hallway.

 

* * *

 

It took hours, and by the end of it all of them were filthy and exhausted. It was a well timed spell cast desperately by Draco when Crookshanks had cut Elmer off just outside the kitchen, that left Elmer tangled in a glittery net.

While Snape and Kingsley were adding more nets and warding them against escape, Hermione turned and raised her eyebrows at Draco. "Why do you Slytherins all seem to cast glittery ropes?"

Draco snorted. "Style, Granger."

" _Oh_ , of course."

"So, what are we doing with the camel?" Draco asked.

"Eating it?" Hermione suggested, glancing pointedly at Snape.

He glared. "Absolutely not. It used to be a house elf. There is a disused classroom near my office with appropriate wards upon it. But this will be an absolutely temporary measure. I suggest, Miss Granger, that you speak with your infuriating classmate and tell him to get the thing out of the school."

Hermione nodded. "Gladly, Professor."

Snape and Kingsley levitated Elmer and left to lock him safely away, and presumably to shower and find less damaged robes to wear to dinner. Hermione and Draco just headed straight for the Great Hall.

"I say we murder Potter, then have dinner."

"First we ought to make sure he and Theodore didn't destroy half the castle while we were busy."

"Fair point. Also I'd like to know what he thought he was doing, setting an ill tempered dangerous creature on innocent firsties."

"Indeed."

By the time they entered the Great Hall, dirty, singed, and weary, Hermione was ready to skin Harry alive for the trouble. She was not the only one, although neither Snape nor Kingsley could safely take Harry to task without potentially exposing their summer with the Order of the Phoenix, and Draco still didn't quite understand how Harry was to blame.

Hermione, however, knew exactly how Harry was to blame. Unfortunately she couldn't actually march up to the Headmaster and hex _his_ nose somewhere unpleasant (although she would be sending some very strongly worded anonymous Howlers), so she would have to settle for her best friend.

Her best friend, who was not at the Gryffindor table. Instead, she realised after a sweeping glance of the Hall, he was sitting at the Slytherin table with Theodore Nott. Judging from the wide eyed first years they were sitting near, they were busy traumatising the new generation.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER!"

It said something about her and Harry that barely half the students even bothered looking up at the sound of her voice. She wasn't entirely sure _what_ it said, but it probably wasn't good.

Harry _had_ looked up, and he was gazing at her with a perfectly (practised) innocent and curious expression. "Hello Hermione. Where have you been all day?"

"And more to the point, what _have_ you two been doing?" Theodore asked, looking them both over. "Duelling in the hallways?"

"Since when does Granger need a wand to take Draco down?" Pansy asked, snickering. "Which, by the way, was one of the greatest things I have never seen, and if it ever happens to be possible I demand that you let me see the memory of that punch in a pensieve, because I am positive it will fuel all my future patronus castings."

Hermione faltered in her glaring at Harry to blush a little and smile at Pansy. "I admit, it has fueled mine." She coughed and turned back to glaring. "Never mind where I've been, Harry, although it is related. But we need Words, you and I."

Harry blinked at her. Glanced at Draco, and then the staff table, where he clearly noticed who was missing. His expression turned guilty, but she saw the amusement shining in his eyes. "I didn't-"

"Not. Here." She grabbed him by an ear. "Come with me."

"Ow, 'Mione!"

"Don't you 'ow, 'Mione' me, Harry Potter," she hissed as she dragged him across the Great Hall. "Do you think I _enjoy_ spending my Sunday afternoons chasing transfigured camels around the dungeons?"

"Well, I imagine if you weren't enjoying it, you wouldn't have-"

"And what was I supposed to do, let him eat the firsties?"

"Elmer won't hurt them, 'Mione," Harry said, pouting. "Do you really think so little of me that you think I would let him do anything of the sort?"

She stopped. They'd made it to just outside the Entrance Hall, standing on the steps of the castle. She let go of his ear and sighed. "Not intentionally, Harry, but clearly he was scaring them, and you have to remember that under the ill-tempered camel is an even more ill-tempered bitter house elf. I certainly wouldn't put hurting students past Kreacher."

Harry put his hands in his pockets. "Well, no, Kreacher is totally evil, there's no getting past that. But when Sirius died he became my house elf, which means he has to do what I order him to - and of course I ordered him not to hurt or in any way permanently injure or upset them."

"Kreacher also isn't above finding loopholes, Harry, I do hope you worded your orders carefully."

"Of course I did. Plus, Professor Dumbledore cast some extra protective spells around the dungeons when he agreed to bring Elmer here-"

"DAMN IT, DUMBLEDORE!"

Harry cleared his throat. "Are you okay?"

"Harry, be honest with me. Do you have some terrible blackmail on the Headmaster that is compelling him to do your bidding?" Hermione could hear the borderline pleading tone in her own voice, but couldn't stop it.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry said, looking genuinely apologetic. "I'm afraid the Headmaster really does just do it because he gets a kick out of it."

"When he retires, I'm sending Peeves to his house."

Harry snorted. "Please, do you really think Dumbledore is going to retire? He's gonna choke on a sherbet lemon in his office or something."

"Ugh."

"Or be assassinated by disgruntled Gryffindors."

"Don't tempt me."

"You wouldn't."

She sighed, smiling ruefully. "No, of course I wouldn't. But I can't guarantee I wont find a way to prank him ruthlessly."

Harry grinned. "That's my girl."

* * *

 


	5. Chapter Five

On the first Saturday in October, the Entrance Hall and the Great Hall were filled with sand. There was even a two metre wide seashore against the far wall of both halls, waves gently lapping against both the sandy shore and the stone walls. There were heating charms throughout the halls, someone had either extended, replicated, or imitated the enchantments on the ceiling of the Great Hall, and the weather outside was bright and sunny. All in all it very much felt like summer had returned.

The tables in the Great Hall had vanished, but there was a large cluster of picnic tables taking up half the Great Hall and even a few out in the Entrance Hall, all of which held a combination of breakfast foods and picnic sandwiches and salads.

Hermione wasn't mad. She wasn't even particularly annoyed, because there wasn't any sand in her pants, or her bed, or anywhere that she had learned she did not appreciate sand being. It was, she had to admit, actually a kind of awesome idea. There were almost definitely Hogwarts students that had never been to the beach (Harry Potter not withstanding), and as it was a weekend it wasn't doing any harm.

The Headmaster, whether he had a hand in the mini beach or not, clearly agreed with Hermione on that, and was in fact 'sunning' himself on one of many banana lounges in the Entrance Hall. McGonagall was sitting at one of the picnic tables, eating toast and treating the entire room to a Frown of Disapproval.

For the most part, the other professors weren't fazed. Kingsley was, naturally, perfectly happy given he had a table of cheese sandwiches, and Professor Flitwick was cheerfully transfiguring student's clothes into more appropriate beachwear (in lieu of Professor McGonagall, who had been asked, once, and had scowled so fiercely at the third year who had asked that no one had dared approach her since).

Snape was, unsurprisingly, not impressed by the state of things. He was seated at Kingsley's cheese sandwich table, eating bacon he had stolen from an unoccupied table that held nothing _but_ bacon (it had a sign stating it was bacon belonging to Hedwig, but Hedwig was across the hall trying to poach fish out of the mini sea). He was also glowering at Dumbledore, in the direction of the Gryffindor Tower, and (though with slightly less vitriol) at Kingsley.

Hermione was not at all surprised to see that Luna and Ginny were building a giant sand fortress in the corner of the Entrance Hall. They were using spells to strengthen the foundations and the walls, and had enlisted a group of mixed house first years to bring up buckets of water to fill a moat.

She considered joining them, but instead chose to take a plate of food and claim one of those lounges in the Entrance Hall (as far away from the Headmaster as possible, just to try and resist the temptation to throw sand in his beard). She transfigured the jeans and tshirt she was wearing into a sundress, kicked off her shoes, and let herself relax.

Between the knowledge that Harry had to be involved with this somehow and was, most likely, not going to cause too much more trouble over the weekend, and the warmth and the gently crashing waves, Hermione even shut her eyes and drifted. She wasn't quite asleep, and was aware enough that she opened her eyes when a chorus of startled screams came from those closest to the staircase - but she saw Crookshanks and heard the Headmaster reassuring them that he was harmless, and closed her eyes again.

"This is Crookshanks, Miss Granger's cat, who is currently suffering the effects of an unfortunate transfiguration accident. But he most certainly is no more a danger than he ever-" Dumbledore's voice cut off with a sputter as a large amount of sand hit him directly in the mouth.

Hermione glared at him, twirling her wand as he coughed and looked around for the culprit. 'Accident'. Oh, he was not getting away with that.

Dumbledore caught her eye and immediately gave her a slightly sandy smile, eyes twinkling.

The younger students that the Headmaster had been talking to had scattered when they realised someone was most likely about to get the detention to end all detentions (clearly, they were too young and lucky enough to not know Albus Dumbledore as well as Hermione did, if they thought he wouldn't just find it amusing).

But Harry had appeared from inside Ginny and Luna's increasingly impressive fort, and was shaking his head sadly. "Hermione, I can't believe you'd stoop so low as to attack poor Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Ah, now, Harry, I believe I can forgive Miss Granger for her youthful exuberance. I am certain she was just overcome with-"

Harry cleared his throat. "Er, Professor, maybe we should just leave Hermione in peace," he said, eyeing the murderous gleam in Hermione's eyes warily. "I have been throttled enough this year, and no one wants Hermione's near spotless record marred with an attempt on the Headmaster's life."

Dumbledore gave Hermione a saddened look (though his eyes were still twinkling with amusement), but retreated to his banana lounge, where he pulled a dish of sherbet lemons out of his sleeve.

"I'm not sure whether to be glad you're trying to keep me out of trouble, or annoyed that you're still defending the Headmaster," Hermione said, settling back onto her own lounge.

Harry perched on the end of it. "Oh, just be glad and enjoy the sunshine, 'Mione. You'll have plenty of time to get your revenge on Professor Dumbledore."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Harry, you forget that it wasn't just the Headmaster who earned my wrath over the summer."

"Oh, you had fun, admit it."

She glared. Harry just grinned at her, because he was right and he knew it, damn him. Hermione would not admit a thing aloud, however. She wouldn't give Harry that satisfaction. And she certainly wasn't ready to forgive the Headmaster.

The rest of the day was equally pleasant. Most of the student body had taken advantage of the beach, and everyone had been reluctant to leave for their common rooms at the end of the day. Only Professor McGonagall's dedicated shooing had sent them off to bed. Even Hermione had been reluctant to go upstairs.

She slept late the next morning, but once she woke up she made her way back, where sure enough the beach was still present.

In the middle of her breakfast, Hermione watched with amusement as Ginny and Luna emerged from their sand fort, both looking sleepy and rumpled.

"Did you two stay in there all night?" she asked as Ginny reached for the coffee and Luna grabbed the nearest sugary pastry.

"Well, it seemed such a waste to furnish it so nicely and not make use of it," Luna said.

"Furnish it?"

Ginny shrugged. "Well, we had a pile of blankets and a vaguely bench shaped section of sand." She looked over to the fort, which from the outside looked far more elaborate and impressive. "Maybe we could have tried a little harder in there."

"It was comfy enough."

"True." Ginny took another sip of her coffee, and promptly choked on it. "Oh dear Merlin my eyes!"

"Oh, Harry is making use of the Headmaster's birthday gift," Luna said.

Hermione looked. She immediately regretted it. Harry was wearing electric blue robes, covered in bright, glittery pineapples and bananas. He was also walking their way.

"Good morning!" he said cheerfully.

"Harry," Hermione said, horrified but unable to look away. "Harry, why are you wearing those?"

"These?" He looked down at his robes as though he'd forgotten, somehow, that he was so brightly attired. "They seemed appropriate for the beach theme. And look, the Headmaster is clearly delighted that I'm making use of his gift."

"Why couldn't you have just kept them for traumatising Death Eaters?" Ginny lamented.

"Because traumatising my friends is more fun?" He grinned at Ginny's disgusted eye-roll. "Well, if they're upsetting you so much I'll take them off."

"Only if you're wearing something under them," Hermione said promptly. "There are children in here."

"I am hurt and offended that you think I would consider stripping down completely in front of firsties and Professor McGonagall, Hermione."

She just sighed, and Harry shrugged out of his robes, dropping them on the nearest bench.

"Ugh," Ginny said, eyeing Harry's swimming shorts. "Really?"

Harry's shorts were bright orange, which wasn't so bad, but they were covered in animated snakes wearing hula skirts and dancing. "What, you don't like them?"

"I think they're cheerful and charming," Pansy said as she stepped up behind him. "Although, a little hypnotic."

"Please, go swimming," Ginny said. "The fish will try and eat your pants. And hopefully so will Hedwig."

"Hedwig is too smart to be fooled by a pair of shorts," Harry said, offended.

"Not if she's drunk," Ginny muttered.

"Are you calling my owl an owl-coholic?"

"I think you're the one who called her that first."

Pansy glanced at Hermione. "Should I worry on behalf of Hedwig, here?"

Hermione shrugged helplessly. "I honestly don't know. Either she has a genuine addiction, or, and I admit this is what I suspect to be true, she's found her inner actress over the summer."

Hedwig, with a perfect sense of dramatic timing, hooted and swooped down over the table, grabbing a talon full of bacon and landing on Hermione's shoulder to eat it.

"You see?" Hermione said.

Pansy just nodded, reaching out and stroking Hedwig's feathers. "Far too smart an owl to have turned to the bottle," she said, almost cooing. Hedwig hooted approvingly and fluttered over to Pansy's shoulder instead.

Hermione shrugged and went to find a nice patch of undisturbed sand to lie on with the book she had brought to read.

That was how she spent the day, while in the distance some of her year-mates and her tiger splashed about, and Ginny and Luna started home improvements on the interior of their fort.


	6. Chapter Six

On Monday morning the beach was gone, which was unsurprising (Hermione couldn't see Professor McGonagall allowing the Headmaster to get away with anything that would disrupt classes, at least as much as she was able).

The sand fort, on the other hand, was still there, and appeared to be staying indefinitely. Hermione suspected that someone was living in it, though she wasn't sure who.

Hermione would have been far more interested in figuring out whether there was a house elf, a first year, or Professor Flitwick living in the sand fort, but as October wore on, she had something more important to focus on.

She had a feeling. A terrible, terrible feeling. A sense of impending chaos that only strengthened as Halloween drew closer, caused primarily by Harry's patented 'Up To Something' grin.

He and Theodore were spending hours in the library, or somewhere outside. She had seen them scribbling on blueprints in History, pocketing ingredients in Potions, and they had been asking Professors Flitwick and McGonagall suspicious questions that made Flitwick curious and McGonagall's eye twitch.

They were building something.

She didn't know what it was. She didn't know where to find it. There was nothing she could do but wait.

And then the day came, and they made it through classes without incident. The whole day had been so uneventful, that by the time they were heading down to the Halloween Feast, Hermione was twitching at every sudden movement.

When Luna (and where had she even come from? Somehow she had joined them without Hermione's notice) waved and called out 'hello' and two voices chorused 'hello!' back, she drew her wand and almost hexed Fred and George.

Later, Hermione would regret not stunning them.

* * *

There was no way to prove that Harry had thrown that first carrot. Hermione hadn't even seen it until it was bouncing off Ginny's forehead into her pumpkin juice.

Ginny's reflexes were too fast, and someone (Hermione _knew_ it was Fred, but he never owned up) blocked Hermione from stopping her. Half a steak pelted toward Harry - but he ducked, it smacked George in the face, George flicked his wand and sent a cascade of butterbeer across the table, drenching most of the sixth and seventh years and half a dozen passing Ravenclaws.

Professor Snape had been on his feet from the moment Ginny threw the steak, but Fred had gotten in his way as well, splashing gravy over the Hufflepuff firsties, who attacked the Slytherin table with handfuls of peas, and then there was no stopping it.

And if there was no stopping it, there was no staying uninvolved. Hermione tried to leave.

Then Harry nailed her in the ear with an eclair two steps away from the table, she turned on her heel and spelled an entire roast ham into his pants, and things spiraled from there.

There was a lot of screaming and shouting, but over it all, Hermione heard Draco's voice raised almost to a shriek. "Theodore WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?"

"Mashed potato cannon!"

"Oh dear Merlin no!" And that was Ginny.

Hermione ducked away from the twins (it had been somewhat safer in the eye of the storm) to try and get across the Hall.

The staff table caught her eye, just as a triple layer chocolate cake hit Dumbledore full in the face.

Watching the frosting and cream drip down through his beard, and seeing his utterly flummoxed expression, was quite possibly the highlight of her year. She decided in that moment that she was not going to eviscerate Fred and George for aiding and abetting this food fight.

Professor McGonagall was standing at just the right angle, wand in hand, and judging by the 'cat that caught the canary and got into the cream and probably ate an entire tuna for good measure' smirk on her face, this was her doing. Hermione was going to buy that woman something truly spectacular.

She had been distracted, and it had been so worth it, but she had to find Theodore before he actually used that mashed potato cannon.

Then Harry's voice cut through the chaos. "FIRE, THEODORE!"

"DO NOT FIRE, THEODORE!" Pansy shrieked.

There was a loud boom, several crashes, and a billowing of multicoloured smoke, followed by an enraged "POTTER!", which had Hermione turning to see Professor Snape standing with an enraged sneer and a huge custard tart in hand.

She took one step and then a wave of warm toffee crashed down around her. She gasped, which was a dire mistake as it just got toffee stuck to her teeth, and suddenly she was stuck in place while the chaos ensued around her.

Snape conjured a pile of cream onto his custard tart and took aim at Harry, who was standing mere feet away, slumped against the wall, transfixed in horror at what was about to be shoved into his face.

And then _everyone_ was frozen. The custard tart was halfway between Snape's hand and Harry's face, unmoving. Then it fell to the ground, as did all the suspended food around the Hall.

Dobby was standing in the doorway to the Great Hall, arms raised, obviously the reason that no one could move. Remus Lupin stepped past him, jaw slack and wide eyed.

"What in the name of Godric Gryffindor is happening in here?"

Harry coughed. "Er, a Food Fight, Moony."

"I can see that, Harry."

"Well, then why did you ask?"

* * *

With the help of Dobby and a few other house elves, Madame Pomfrey, and a very embarrassed (and cake covered) Albus Dumbledore, Remus had managed to sort the students into 'safe to send back to their dorms to clean themselves up' and 'in need of medical attention'.

Unsurprisingly, Harry had ended up in the latter category.

"Here, Harry. Eat this, it will help."

"Remus, how, exactly, is eating this chocolate frog, which by the way do you seriously just carry a stash in your robes or what? But how is it supposed to help with my broken leg?"

"Harry, chocolate helps with any situation."

"Remus!" Poppy huffed, scowling and waving a potions vial around. "You cannot cure everything with chocolate!"

"But chocolate _can_ cure everything, Poppy."

"If your chocolate can heal my broken leg, I will eat a Weasley twin."

"Oi!"

"Oh, hush, Gred and Forge. This is all your fault anyway." There was a scoff and some dark muttering from the shadowed corner where Snape was standing, which everyone ignored. "The least you can do is be quiet about being eaten in the event of this chocolate frog, this one right here, healing my broken leg."

Fred and George exchanged a look, then shrugged. "Fair call, Harry."

Harry nodded. He then took the chocolate frog that Remus was still waving under his nose, and ate it in two bites.

"Oh, look," Harry said, deadpan. "My leg is not healing. Fancy that."

"But I bet you feel better."

"Harry frowned. "I mean, I'm a little less hungry I guess? I did miss dinner, after all."

There was a growl from Snape's corner, and a sound of strangled rage from the other end of the hospital wing. Harry studiously ignored both.

"Sounds like someone else could use some chocolate, Remus," George said, apparently having far less respect for his own life than Harry. "We all missed dinner."

Remus sent a contemplative look to where Hermione, actually shaking with rage, was sitting on the bed at the far end. Ron was standing by her, looking terrified but determined, gingerly patting her on the shoulder in an attempt to calm her down. It did little quell her anger, but given that she was covered head to toe in toffee, incapable of speech, and almost unable to move at all, that was not surprising.

"Actually," Remus admitted. "I don't think chocolate _would_ help in that particular case. Although..." He did walk closer, just close enough to pass a couple of chocolate frogs to Ron, who looked inordinately grateful. Remus retreated quickly, fearing for his life at the glint in Hermione's eyes.

"Poor, brave Ron," Harry murmured as Remus returned. "He's a good friend."

"Indeed. Harry, I do have some questions, about tonight."

Harry blinked. "Ah, what kind of questions, Remus?"

"To begin with, how exactly does one break a leg in the middle of a food fight?"

"Oh, that," Harry said. "Well, I'm pretty sure it was at least seventy percent Ginny's fault. And ten percent Draco. And twenty percent, as Professor McGonagall would put it, sheer dumb luck."

"I don't see how breaking your leg is lucky, Harry."

"Well, if it hadn't been mine, then it would have been Professor Snape's leg, and I didn't want to live through the aftermath of that."

Snape just growled again, rolling his eyes, but didn't comment.

"Harry, I- that's, how is a food fight in any way, shape, or form a place where anyone can break a bone?"

"Well. Um. It could be, hypothetically, if, say, someone, or a pair of someones, happened to have built a rather powerful but untested mashed potato cannon."

Remus instinctively looked to Fred and George.

"Er, not them," Harry said over Fred and George's overly zealous protests of innocence.

"Ah, you, then," Remus sighed. "And your partner in crime. Whichever partner in crime it may have been."

"Yes. Hypothetically. If the existence of said cannon can even be proven. It may even be proven to have malfunctioned, possibly due to tampering, and perhaps should have been tested more thoroughly before use in actual food combat. Hypothetically."

"Uh huh. Hypothetically. Harry, there are countless potential witnesses, you realise?"

"Potential, yes."

"As a 'potential' witness," Pansy said dryly from the doorway. "I will testify to the existence of the mashed potato cannon."

Harry pouted. "Ouch, Betrayed by my own girlfriend."

Pansy shrugged. "Sorry, dear, but I'm the one who's going to have to live with Draco for the foreseeable future and listen to his whining about the damage to his hair. Which, I feel obligated to tell you, has been irreparably scarred, as well as singed. He will never recover from the trauma. Physically or emotionally. Ever. He was very clear on that point."

"Oh. In that case, Pansy, I am terribly sorry for the ordeal you must endure."

"I may, at some point, forgive you," she said, perching on the edge of his bed. "Granger, on the other hand..."

They all looked over to Hermione. Hermione glowered back.

"Also Professor Snape," Remus added, risking a glance at the corner.

Harry followed his gaze, then raised his eyebrows. "Actually, Remus, he seems to be glaring at _you_."

Remus blinked. "Oh dear. Perhaps I should talk to him."

"Good luck with _that_ ," Ginny said, snickering.

Harry, Pansy, and Remus all looked at her.

"Where did you come from?" Pansy asked.

"We came in the doorway," Luna replied, stepping around Ginny. "Ginny has something she would like to say."

Ginny winced. "Er, yes."

"I don't think I want to know," Remus sighed, before heading over to speak with Snape - who grabbed Remus's arm and dragged him bodily out of the room.

"And I _know_ I don't want to know," Pansy said, blinking. "What was he even doing here in the first place?"

"I think that's another one we don't want the answer to," Harry said. "I mean, it sure wasn't to visit _me_." He snickered and shook his head. "Anyway, Ginny, you had something to say?"

She sighed. "Oh, right. I sort of may have tried to destroy the mashed potato cannon and so maybe, just possibly, it might be my fault that it exploded and I'm," she paused, grimacing, "sorry. But to be fair, Malfoy helped."

"In that case he only has himself to blame for his hair trauma, and I must go and inform him of this immediately."

"Bye Pansy!"

"Bye, Harry."

The three of them fell into silence.

"Do you think Hermione might like some of the photos I took during the food fight?" Luna asked, looking over to where Madame Pomfrey was trying to melt off the toffee. "To cheer her up?"

"I think she's more likely to set you on fire, to be honest," Harry said with a shrug.

Luna pulled out one photo in particular and showed it to Harry and Ginny. "Even this one?"

Harry and Ginny were silent, watching the cake hit Dumbledore and slide off over and over.

"You know what?" Ginny said finally. "I think she might just frame that one."


	7. Chapter Seven

Thanks to the Hogwarts house elves, the Great Hall was restored to its former glory by breakfast the day after Halloween.

Hermione's desire to soak Harry in treacle and feed him to Crookshanks took longer to simmer down, but thanks to Luna Lovegood and the wonders of wizarding photography, she had an enlarged framed reminder of the good that had come from the Food Fight (she may have teared up a little when Luna presented her with it), and it wasn't long until her rage subsided enough for thoughts other than revenge to cross her mind.

And one of the first things she remembered was that she had promised Professor Snape to find a more permanent home for Elmer.

Elmer himself actually seemed relatively content with his dungeon prison, but Snape had been insistent that it was only a temporary measure, and Hermione thought that if she finally moved Elmer out of the dungeons, it might help convince him not to fail each and every potions student in Hogwarts in the aftermath of Halloween.

At first, Hermione was completely at a loss as to where Elmer could live. She considered having the Headmaster return him to Grimmauld Place, but they couldn't leave Elmer the camel there unsupervised, and he was clearly so much happier (and frankly _less_ of a nuisance) than Kreature the house elf, so returning him to his original state, were it even possible, was out of the question.

It was Ron that gave her the idea, albeit indirectly.

"If only we knew someone who was desperate enough to enjoy his company!"

Ron clearly thought that there was not a single being on the face of the planet that was quite that desperate, but it got Hermione thinking about whether _she_ could think of anyone lonely enough to enjoy the company of an ill-tempered house elf turned ill-mannered camel, and eventually, she came up with a name.

Moaning Myrtle.

Hermione rather thought it a stroke of brilliance. No one used Myrtle's bathroom if they had any choice whatsoever. The castle had recently relocated a toilet from a disused area of the fifth floor to just down the corridor (the fact that Hogwarts had taken over fifty years to offer an alternative, Hermione thought, was probably because to the castle, fifty years was nothing - she had likely only just noticed there was a problem).

And Myrtle was _so_ lonely. Everyone knew that. She preferred to stick close to home (visits to the prefect's bathroom not withstanding), which meant she had next to no visitors.

So Hermione stunned and petrified Elmer, levitated him along behind her, and stepped into the bathroom. She smirked, then spoke. "Hello Myrtle, I've brought you a present."

"A present?" Myrtle repeated, suspicious and clearly trying to hide her curiosity.

"Yes," Hermione said. "I've brought you a pet." And she moved fully into the room, dropping her spells and pulling a reluctant Elmer in behind her.

Myrtle squealed and dove into her toilet and back out again in what appeared to be joy. "A camel! How unique! He's so cute!"

Hermione had to choke back a laugh at Elmer, all around menace to all, being considered 'cute'. "His name is Elmer, and he's going to live here with you, if that's all right?"

"Oh yes!" Myrtle gushed, swooping around Elmer excitedly. "Oh, I love him already!"

"Wonderful!" Hermione didn't even try to hide her relief. "Now, the house elves will bring him food twice a day, and keep the place clean. But other than that, he's your responsibility."

When Hermione left the bathroom, she and Kingsley cast several complicated locking charms to keep Elmer from escaping.

Hermione went back and checked on Elmer and Myrtle every few weeks. Myrtle remained surprisingly enamoured of her ill-tempered new companion, whereas Elmer just spat and hissed in the corner of the room, or chewed angrily at the taps of the sinks. It seemed the problem of Elmer had been solved.

* * *

With Elmer sorted out, and Harry and Theodore's need for a food fight clearly sated by the chaos of the first one, Hermione actually managed to relax a little, get ahead on her homework, and on the second Sunday after Halloween she actually slept in.

She was so used to waking up with a fully grown tiger taking up most of her bed in the morning that when she first woke, she thought that Crookshanks was off menacing the firsties again. It wasn't until she finally dragged herself into sitting up, half asleep and vaguely considering whether to go save them, that she realised he was still on the bed.

He was also still a tiger. He had just...shrunk.

Still slightly bigger than the average house cat, Crookshanks was a fully formed tiger, but now back to his original size.

Judging from his glare, he was not a fan of this development.

"Well I can't help you," she said crossly. "I'll see if Professor McGonagall has any ideas."

* * *

Professor McGonagall did not have any ideas. Despite being an expert in the field of Transfiguration, she wasn't entirely sure what the Headmaster had done to turn Crookshanks into a tiger in the first place, as it hadn't been done in a standard use of spells.

Hermione rather thought she could adapt to having her normal sized cat back, but Crookshanks would sulk unbearably, and she would much prefer to have a happy tiger than a miserable cat.

This left her with two options. Harry, or the Headmaster.

She really didn't want to go to Dumbledore. She didn't want him to think that she might be open to forgiving him.

And as it turned out, Harry came to her. She was sitting in McGonagall's office contemplating her options over tea, when he knocked on the door and poked his head inside.

"Hello, Professor! Oh! Hello, Hermione."

Hermione frowned and set her tea down. "Harry, Crookshanks is shrinking. Fix it."

Harry blinked and fully entered the room. "Oh dear. Um, I really hate to be the one to tell you this, because I'm afraid you'll set me on fire, but Professor Dumbledore is probably the only one who can fix Crookshanks. He got pretty creative with the Transfiguration."

"Ugh. Fine, then _you_ make him do it."

"I'll ask him soon as I get a chance. But, actually, Professor Dumbledore sent me to find the both of you."

"The both of us, Potter? Whatever for?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure, Professor. He said something about an obscure ritual, possibly something about breaking or enhancing my connection with Voldemort, I honestly stopped listening when he started getting all technical. But he wanted the three of us and Professor Snape in on the research."

Hermione sighed, but stood up. "For your sake, fine. But I'm making it clear right now that I am _not_ doing this for the Headmaster's sake. And he had better fix my cat."

* * *

Headmaster Dumbledore did fix Crookshanks. Unfortunately when he cast the spells, the results were time delayed and would take several days - apparently a result of making them more permanent to avoid Crookshanks shrinking again. Crookshanks was not pleased with the waiting, and made this clear by clawing all the lounges in the Gryffindor Common Room, hissing at everyone, and shedding more fur than Hermione thought he actually possessed onto everything in what seemed like the entire castle.

Thursday evening Hermione chose to take a break from her homework and from researching the Headmaster's obscure ritual, and was relaxing in the Common Room with an Arithmancy book (although she had to keep pausing to brush off the fur).

Very suddenly, the cat that had been sleeping on her lap was no longer a cat.

"DAMN IT, HARRY!"

Across the Common Room, Harry looked up from a pile of probably suspicious research notes. "What did I do?"

"CROOKSHANKS IS A TIGER AGAIN!"

"Isn't that a good thing? You made me pester Dumbledore into fixing him!"

"HE'S SLEEPING ON MY LAP HARRY AND NOW HE IS THREE HUNDRED KILOGRAMS OR SO OF TIGER ON MY LAP I HAVE NO BLOOD CIRCULATION!"

"Er. Oh dear. Uh, Crookshanks? Here, kitty kitty. I have a nice tasty camel here for you? Or a shark! You like shark! Yummy shark sushi?"

Hermione finally managed to shove enough sleeping tiger off her to be able to breath properly and feel her legs. "Harry, he's not an idiot. He knows he can't have camel or shark steaks anymore."

"Oh, well. I tried. Alas, poor Hermione."

"Ugh. You're the worst."

"I know."

"You don't need to be so proud of it."

"Don't I, though?"

"Ugh."


	8. Chapter Eight

Hermione spent the majority of the rest of November with Professors Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall, firstly exploring the possibilities of the ritual the Headmaster had found, and then suspending their research and instead creating experimental and untested additional spells due to an unforeseen possible complication.

Harry, on the other hand, chose to avoid the research entirely (he had that book Luna had found him to work on, after all, not to mention his school work, Quidditch, and spending time with Pansy).

Near the end of the month, Professor Dumbledore called Harry to join the research team in his office and explained exactly what he wanted to do.

Harry stared at him. "So, let me see if I have this right," he said, gathering the remaining shreds of his patience with a deep breath.

The Headmaster nodded encouragingly.

"You want to perform an obscure, archaic ritual, currently not fully researched, that you think will help in defeating Voldemort."

"That is correct, Harry."

"In researching said obscure, archaic ritual, you hit a snag when you found that biology and blood are essential elements of the ritual, and immediately stopped researching it because you remembered that there may have been, at some distant point in time, a reason to doubt that James Potter is in fact my biological father."

"Indeed, dear boy."

"And because you can't go ahead with the ritual without knowing for sure who my father is, you all got creative, and now want to cast an untested theoretical time travel spell upon me, in order to send me back to a meeting that occurred in this office when I was around a year old."

Dumbledore nodded again, eyes twinkling.

"A meeting that has been erased, almost completely, from the memories of every single person who attended – or so you assume, as you don't remember exactly who was there, the reasons for calling, what was discussed, or even if the vague hunch you have that the topic of my parentage even came up is anything more than a weird dream you had."

"That does seem to sum everything up nicely, Harry."

"Uh huh. I am honestly not sure whether I think this is awesome or completely ridiculous."

"Are the two mutually exclusive?"

"Good point, Professor." Harry frowned. "But are you absolutely sure no one erased the memories of baby me? This may be completely pointless, and you may never find out either way because my consciousness could get stuck in my baby self."

"If it was going to, it already would have," Hermione said. She was sitting off to the side with McGonagall and Snape, going over the notes for the time travel spell. They were also surrounded by the research they had abandoned.

"Unless it did but the memory of it was obliviated out of me and I'm just doomed to repeat the first sixteen years of my life over and over and over and-"

"Harry!" Hermione snapped. "Don't be so dramatic. I know, I know, it's what you do best," she added as he opened his mouth to say as much. "I promise I will come and restore your memories personally if you don't come back. Does that help?"

Harry shrugged. "No offence, Hermione, but I'm honestly not sure if that's reassuring at all. This time travel stuff gives me a headache."

"Then trust me, it's about as safe as you can get for an untested experimental spell, and you should be just fine."

"Again, not exactly reassuring. Are we sure can't just find a different way of defeating Voldemort?"

Snape slammed the book in front of him shut. "For Merlin's sake, Potter, for the seven millionth time, YES WE ARE SURE!"

Harry wondered if Snape had been sitting there with the book open for the express purpose of slamming it when he inevitably lost his patience. It was a very Snape thing to do.

"Now, Severus, there's no need to shout," Dumbledore said mildly. "I am certain that Harry understands the importance of what we are trying to accomplish. It is completely understandable that he is wary." He paused and turned back to Harry. "But I promise you, my dear boy, we have done our utmost to ensure your safety."

Harry sighed. "Oh, all right then. If I die, all my socks go to Dobby, everything vaguely suspicious goes to Luna, and Theodore inherits my reign of chaos."

All but Dumbledore rolled their eyes at him.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Harry was still sitting in front of the Headmaster's desk, having consumed half a dish of sherbet lemons (not necessary for the spell, he was just peckish). The biggest change was that now all three professors and Hermione were pointing their wands at him and incanting.

He was just noting how pretty the pink and green criss-crossing magic was, and how much the light from the spell did not flatter Snape's complexion at all, and then everything went abruptly orange and then black.

* * *

As he gradually regained awareness, Harry found himself being carried down the halls of Hogwarts towards the Headmaster's office (he'd know the way in his sleep), listening to his parents bicker like Ron and Hermione.

"For the thousandth time, James, I have no more idea of why Albus called this meeting than you do," Lily huffed.

"I just thought maybe Minnie would have said something to you," James replied.

Harry realised than neither of his parents were actually carrying him. If he was in Wormtail's arms, he was going to scream the castle down until the situation changed.

"One day Professor McGonagall really is going to hang you guys from the Astronomy Tower by your toes for calling her that."

Nope, never mind. Crisis averted. That was Peter somewhere behind him. Which left, he assumed, either Sirius or Remus.

"Don't be ridiculous, Wormtail!" Oh, that was Sirius, also behind him. "Minnie loves us!"

"Minnie loves _me_ ," Remus said directly above Harry's head. " _I_ was a model student. You delinquents are so getting hung by your toes."

"You know," Lily said, sounding pointedly thoughtful. "I have literally never heard any one of you call Minerva 'Minnie' to her face, or even within her hearing."

All four men were silent. Harry took the opportunity to test his current vocal prowess, and managed to mumble something that sounded vaguely like 'Minnie'.

Apparently it was close enough for Remus. "That's right Harry, Minnie. Good baby."

"He's not a puppy, Moony," James said, voice veritably dripping with amused fondness.

Harry was physically incapable of resisting the urge to say 'woof'. The resulting laughter among the adults lasted until they arrived at the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office.

Interestingly, the gargoyle was already standing to the side, entrance wide open. The others all exchanged glances above Harry's eye line before moving forward, which meant that Harry was the only one to see the tail end of someone's black (and somehow ominous) robe ascending before them.

Harry spent the trip up the staircase wondering how, exactly, a robe could be ominous, and whether it was a quality he could add to his own robes once he returned to the future. He should ask Professor Snape. Harry suspected that he would know exactly how to go about creating such an effect, and he made a mental note to bribe the answers from him at the first opportunity.

Of course, it turned out, there was another very good reason that a set of robes might take on an ominous air – absorbing malice from their evil, evil wearers.

Voldemort was sitting in Dumbledore's office.

Harry was thrown by this.

He was not the only one. While Harry voiced his protests with an indignant squeal, the Marauders and Lily stopped dead just inside the doorway, drawing their wands. James, Sirius, and Lily all stepped in front of Remus and Harry.

Dumbledore, naturally, was sitting at his desk with an infuriatingly serene smile (the one Harry recognised from the conversation explaining why he was here in the first place). There were more chairs in front of the desk than usual, in fact, more than should comfortably fit if you took physics into account (thanks, magic), and most of them were occupied by wary members of the Order of the Phoenix. There were also a couple of Death Eaters (that Harry supposed probably weren't proven to be any such thing at this point), and of course, one very irritated Dark Lord.

Harry wanted to ask what the ever-loving heck was even happening right now. Instead his inexperienced tongue babbled something one hundred percent incomprehensible.

Except, apparently, if you were Remus Lupin. "I agree, Harry, this does seem awfully strange. Headmaster, what is going on here?"

"Moo'y," Harry said agreeably, patting Remus awkwardly on the face in praise.

"Please, everyone have a seat. Now that you have arrived, we can begin."

"Have you finally lost what little sanity you had, Professor?" James demanded. "I'm not going to sit down and have TEA with VOLDEMORT!"

Voldemort sneered at James over the teacup he had just picked up. "Oh, don't worry your pretty little heads, the old man managed to extract an Unbreakable Vow from me not to harm anyone while on the school grounds."

Wow, what a shame Dumbledore hadn't managed to make that a _permanent_ vow, rather than just a one time thing. "Ssssss."

"That's nice, Harry," Remus said, apparently having lost his baby translation skills.

Harry pouted.


End file.
